


something in you

by parchmints



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Dividing the World | Cyril and Hilda Valentine Goneril's Paralogue, Gen, Insecurity, Missing Scene, bg holst/balthus, dumbass holst, freikugel, holst is a doting older brother
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:15:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28152234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/parchmints/pseuds/parchmints
Summary: Hilda has some words for her brother after he left her to do all the work defending Fódlan’s LocketORHolst entrusts Freikugel to his baby sister.
Relationships: Hilda Valentine Goneril & Holst Goneril
Comments: 3
Kudos: 16





	something in you

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, everyone! This is the little piece I did for [Delicate Flower Zine](https://twitter.com/Hildafanzine). It was an incredible project that turned out SO well and I am so honored they had me. 
> 
> Shout out to [Brigid](https://twitter.com/angst_in_space) and [Emma](https://twitter.com/spacesongmp3) for betaing!

_something in you_

See, this is why Hilda isn’t cut out for battle—her muscles are all achy and she’s sweated the expensive perfume right off her neck. Which, gross. Sure, she and her class stopped the Almyran forces from invading Fódlan’s Locket but Goddess, at what cost? As soon as she speaks to her brother, she’s taking the longest bath of her life. 

Speaking of brothers...Hilda is going to _kill_ hers. What was that idiot thinking, getting a “sudden illness” in the middle of an invasion? If he’d been there, she definitely wouldn’t have gotten as icky and sore as she is now. He owes her. Big time. 

She shoos off the attendants that welcome her at the door and heads straight for Holst’s room, already dreading his incessant babying. 

And ugh, _of course_ his stupid room is guarded by soldiers. 

“Lady Hilda!” one guard says, red and flustered under his helmet. Hilda has that effect on people. “Master Holst is resting right now so…” 

“I’m sure my brother won’t mind if I bother him for a few minutes. I _did_ fill in for him at Fódlan’s Locket, after all,” Hilda says. If she whips out her trusty “get-what-I-want” smile, well, that’s between her and the Goddess. 

The guard goes even redder and looks to his partner, who shrugs. 

“I, er...well, yes. I’m sure Master Holst is anxious to see you.” He reaches for the door’s handle. “The healer said he should get plenty of rest so…” 

“Don’t worry. I’ll make sure he doesn’t overdo it,” Hilda says. Normally, you wouldn’t have to worry about such a thing but Holst, genius general that he is, has a tendency to overexert himself even in conversation. 

The guard opens the door for her, stiffening as she goes past, then shuts the door quickly. He isn’t quite Hilda’s type (hers is more... _feminine_ ) but it’s a nice confidence boost all the same. 

The snoring is the first thing she notices. Holst is so loud she’s surprised it didn’t interrupt her conversation with the guard. It’s been months since she’s been in here, but it’s still a cluttered mess of weapons, crumpled up letters, and discarded parchment with scribblings of battle plans. The maids are _never_ allowed to touch the clutter since Holst has—what he calls—a system, but you can’t argue with his results. The windows are huge, stretching from ceiling to floor, so at least the natural lighting is nice. Currently, they’re all covered by heavy curtains to block out the sun—Hilda’s going to have to do something about that. 

She goes to the middle window, the one that’s sure to send a bright beam directly into Holst’s field of vision, and swiftly pulls back the curtain. It results in a satisfying and overdramatic groan from the bed behind her. 

“Mm, hold on,” Holst says, tossing the covers over his head. “Baltie, not _there_.” 

And, whoa, okay that’s enough of that. Hilda crosses to the bed and gives Holst’s shoulder a hard shake. “Up and at ‘em, dummy.” 

Holst jolts awake, sitting up straight and whipping his head from left to right like he’s under attack, but he stops when his pink eyes land on Hilda. She stares back at him with her hands on her hips and a glare that she hopes conveys “you’re in big trouble, mister.” 

“ _Hilda?_ ” he says and his stupidly big arms extend their full wingspan out for a hug. Hilda sighs. It’s true that Holst can’t deny her anything, but it’s also true Hilda can’t deny him much either. She gives him a hug. 

“A brute as always,” she says, pushing him off. Does _every_ hug have to be the rib-cracking kind?

Holst combs his pink hair with his fingers. It’s longer than the last time Hilda saw him, nearly reaching his shoulders. “Aw, c’mon, Hildy. Hurts my feelings when you say that.” 

“Well, it hurts my _back_ when you crush me like that.” 

Holst grins. “Sorry, sorry. I was just worried about you. Tell me everything. Is the Locket alright? My men?” 

“Hmph,” Hilda says, crossing her arms. “You’ll be happy to know that your baby sister handled the situation perfectly and all your men are fine. Well, they might need a couple days in the infirmary, but no losses.” 

Holst looks like he’s about to hug her again, but instead, he just beams. “Hilda, you’re amazing!” 

“I know.” 

Holst stands, looking weak and uneasy on his feet. “No, you don’t get it. The Locket is one of the most contentious parts of Fódlan. The fact that you led a defense against the Almyrans without any casualties...I always knew you were special, Hilda, but this is beyond even my expectations.” He gesticulates wildly as he heads over to a desk covered in papers by the window. “Incredible. You’re not even out of Garreg Mach yet. The will that takes, the strategic brilliance! I have to tell Baltie. He’s going to be so impressed.”

Hilda feels heat rise to her cheeks. She loves getting her fair share of praise but this is too much! “Holst, stop. I don’t need you bragging about me to your boyfriend.” 

“Aww, why? Baltie likes hearing about you,” Holst says as he sits and looks for a blank piece of parchment. 

“It really wasn’t that impressive. My professor and classmates helped. I didn’t do it single-handedly or anything.” 

“But _you_ led them. Who in your ranks knows as much about the Locket as you?” Holst happily reaches for his quill even though he looks like he’s about to pass out. “No, this was your victory, Hilda. I’m so proud of you. I was sick and you came and protected Goneril in my stead.” And oh, Goddess, he looks like he’s about to be moved to tears. 

“Speaking of,” Hilda says as she places her palm on Holst’s forehead, “you’re burning up! You need to take it easy.” 

Holst waves her off and turns back to his letter. “Did you tell Mother and Father? Was Claude there? He should tell his grandfather.”

“No, seriously. You look awful. What happened?” Hilda says. 

Hilda noticed earlier how horribly pale he was, but the question makes any remaining blood in his face disappear. “Well, I—you have to understand that rations can sometimes go bad when you’re out at war and you have to make them last, so—” 

“Holst.” 

Holst sighs and his shoulders sag. “I ate a bad mushroom and um, my body had a... _negative_ reaction—” 

“Stop talking,” Hilda says. “Are you serious? You left me to defend Fódlan’s Locket because you had _food poisoning?_ ” 

Holst looks at her like she’s just stabbed him. His eyes darken and an ominous aura surrounds him like his own personal storm cloud. He slaps a hand over his heart and tightly grips the fabric of his shirt there. 

“It’s a disgrace,” Holst says, his voice a low rumble. “I disgust myself. Me, the Alliance’s so-called greatest general, Duke of the noble house of Goneril—” 

“Holst, c’mon,” Hilda says.

“No! I can’t abide my own foolishness,” he says, standing and knocking a dozen pieces of parchment into the air. He stomps right up to Hilda and takes her by the shoulders before she can get away. “Take my place, Hilda. I will forfeit my title and inheritance to you and you alone. I have disgraced our house on this day and you are our only hope of redemption. Please, I will defer to your word.” 

Hilda rolls her eyes as far back as they can go and pulls Holst’s hands off her shoulders. “Oh, get _over_ yourself. Yes, you’re a massive idiot, but I’m not interested in taking your title. That’s _way_ too much work.” 

“No, you must! You’re clearly more qualified than I. No, no it just won’t do.” Holst ruffles his hair and returns to the desk, grabbing a quill and more parchment. “I’ll send for an attorney right away and speak with Father. I might be able to get someone here by tomorrow. Hilda, you’ll have to stay, of course. They’ll need your signature—” 

“I told you, I don’t want—” 

“Father will fight me at first, but he’s a reasonable man—” 

“Holst.”

“Hm. But your education. Perhaps I will stay Duke until you graduate, but then, once you’re home you can—” 

“ _Holst!”_ Hilda shouts, indignant and whiny like she was when she was a child. Or a week ago, but semantics. “I am _not_ taking your title. You got sick and I filled in for you. That’s it. Now, will you please get back in bed? You look like you’re going to pass out and I am not lifting a finger to help you if that happens, do you hear me?” 

Holst stares at her, gaping like a teutates loach. She’s about to turn heel and leave when she sees a wet glisten in his eyes. _Oh, Goddess._

His palm covers his mouth and he looks away from her dramatically. “Oh, Hilda. What a fine young woman you’re becoming.” 

“Don’t cry!” she yells, the tips of her ears getting warm. Her brother is so embarrassing it’s unbelievable.

He ignores her and stumbles around the room like a newborn wyvern cub. He spins in place, scanning the room until his eyes finally lock on his target next to the bed. He fumbles toward it and—no. He can _not_ be serious. 

_Freikugel._

Holst lifts the axe with as much ease as if it were a wooden stick and holds it out to Hilda. 

“No way. No way, Holst,” she says, shaking her head and waving her arms in front of her. “I want nothing to do with that thing. It’s freaky and weird and like, alive or something.” 

“Hilda, please. Take it. It belongs to you as much as it does me. After what you did today...you deserve it.” There’s a newfound clarity in Holst’s eyes, the fog of fever lifting from them. 

“You’re the one who’s out defending the Locket. I’m in school,” Hilda says. 

Holst shakes his head. “No. If I’m a general worth my salt, then I shouldn’t need a relic to defend my homeland.” 

“I’m not saying you need it, but—” Hilda stops herself. She eyes Freikugel and a wash of cold water goes down her spine. She can feel the power radiating off of it and it’s far too much responsibility for her to handle. “I can’t, Holst. I shouldn’t wield that thing.” 

Holst frowns, his demeanor far more serious than Hilda is used to. “You have the Crest of Goneril, don’t you? Freikugel will listen to you just as it listens to me.” 

Hilda bites her lip and presses her fists protectively over her chest. “Holst, I can’t—” 

“Just once,” Holst says, his hands gripping tighter onto Freikugel’s hilt. “Just once I wish you could believe in yourself as much as I believe in you.” 

Something hard gets stuck in Hilda’s throat. What can she possibly say to that? Slowly, she unfurls her arms to receive the axe. Holst smiles, small and genuine, and places it in her hands. Immediately, she feels her pulse sync up with Freikugel’s own thrumming energy, its power mixing with her bloodstream. 

“I’m so proud of you, Hilda,” Holst says. “Truly. Don’t deny the power you have. Our country needs it. More than you know.” 

She’s too overwhelmed to speak, but she manages a nod. 

She doesn’t feel ready. She doesn’t think she’s nearly as dependable or competent as her brother imagines. But for the first time, a part of her thinks she might be able to live up to the expectation. 

Not yet, but someday. 

**Author's Note:**

> thanks in advance for any comment and kudos to anyone reading <3
> 
> follow me on twitter and be my friend esp if you love hilda! 
> 
> Links: [Tumblr](http://parchmints.tumblr.com/) | [Twitter](https://twitter.com/parchmints) | [my other fics](https://archiveofourown.org/users/parchmints/works)


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